


Serendipia

by Rotten_Panda



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Grimmjow is bored, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Szayel gets out of Hell, so is everyone else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rotten_Panda/pseuds/Rotten_Panda
Summary: Szayel Aporro has escaped Hell and returned to Hueco Mundo. However, things are definitely not what they used to be. Having to reconstruct his lost work, dealing with the trauma of a gruesome death and mourning for his lost boss and comrades is hard enough.Now add a developing crush on Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.
Relationships: Szayel Aporro Granz/Grimmjow Jaegerjaques
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Serendipia

**Author's Note:**

> Serendipity: The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
> 
> So... english is not my first language, obviously. But... I've had this idea for so many years, I just had to write it down.

The sudden amount of clean air that enters his lungs is so overwhelming he thinks he might asphyxiate with it. He feels dizzy, and it takes him a moment to realize he is in the ground, trembling and trying to catch his breath. For a moment he thinks he’ll pass out, and almost wishes he does, because he can’t take the dizziness that reminds him of _that drug_.

So when he finally blacks out, he’s grateful.

* * *

He wakes up violently, trashing out and defending himself from _who knows what_. He doesn’t remember the nightmare, and still, it takes him a moment to orientate himself and realizes he’s alone in the sand.

Sand.

He’s in Hueco Mundo

He’s up in seconds –though he regrets it almost immediately, falling back to his knees because he just _can’t _stand–. He takes of his gloves in a hurried and clumsy way, and then buries his hands in the sand beneath him. It feels cold, in an almost empty way that speaks of the lack of life here.

He laughs.

He can’t help it, he laughs maniacally like he hasn’t done in _years_. He’s out, he’s escaped the gates of hell and returned to Hueco Mundo and can’t, for the love of everything that is logical, stop laughing.

Maybe he’s too insane, for tears start rolling out his eyes despite him still laughing. He takes his hands to his face, in what he thinks it’s an attempt to stop the tears from falling into de sand. He doesn’t think much of his actions; damn, he’s not even sure how he’s _moving_, he feels disconnected to his body in a way he’s never felt before.

_“I’m out, I really got out” _It’s his only thought as he keeps laughing and crying . For a moment, it crosses his mind that he has lost all sanity, and this might as well be a dream, but just pushes the thought away. He is overwhelmed and tired, and lets his body fall to the sand again. Looking up, he sees Hueco Mundo’s sky, dark and scary, but illuminated by the light of a moon without a sun. He always thought of the place as _incredibly _dull, but right now he can only think of it as beautiful.

At some point he stops laughing, and his crying has almost stop too, save for a few tears that slip from his eyes from time to time and the occasional sob he lets out.

He shouldn’t stay here, for he is an easy prey in the open. Besides, he has little to no strength left, and won’t be a match if someone or something decides to attack him. However, he doesn’t feel like moving yet. He thinks he might vomit the moment he tries to stand, and so tries to concentrate on his breathing. He’ll move soon.

Then he feels_ her_.

He knows that reiatsu, and for a moment he panics, thinking on getting up and escape just for one second. He is weak, and even if he managed to get up, he wouldn’t be able to use sonido. And even if by some miracle he _could_, there was no place where he could run. He wonders if there are any others left, or if Aizen-sama is still there. He closes his eyes, even if they were, he is nothing now, and is sure there is no way Nelliel will let him get away alive.

He starts cursing in his mind, too tired to do it out loud. All that work, all those _years_ of planning, he finally got out and is getting back there in the same day. What’s worse, he had to sacrifice Aaroniero to get out before, now that he’s gone, there’s no way he’ll get out again.

He can feel her approaching, but he doesn’t want to see her. He doesn’t want to see the look in her eyes as she kills him. However, he does wonder what she would think. He knows revenge is not her style, but what he has done is worse than anything else done to her.

He waits, but rather than feeling her sword stabbing his heart (which he knows the feeling all too well), he just feels her kneeling next to him. He opens his eyes, and she’s staring at him with an unreadable look in her face.

“Szayel Aporro”

He takes this as a greeting, and laughs internally at this. She was always, after all, oh so very educated, which was one of the reasons why he found her so amusing, though others like Nnoitra found it terribly arrogant.

“Nelliel” He greets back, and for a moment closes his eyes, aware that she’s still staring. However, he can’t help the feeling of fear that invades him and opens them again. “It is an unexpected pleasure”

She doesn’t react. They both know that is not true and that he’s only talking to mask his fear, though he’s not sure if he’s hiding it from her or _himself._

“I thought you were dead”

“So did I”

He wants to tell her to stop being like this, wants to scream and tell her to _just be over with it_. But for some reason he can’t. He’s scared; he doesn’t want to go back to that place.

But then, he remembers what it was like the first time. He spent an _eternity_ waiting for death to arrive. He was desperate, and wanted nothing more than grab the fucking sword and bring it right to his chest. He wanted it to be _over._

Suddenly her gaze has changed, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s trembling and crying again. He looks to the sky, not wanting to look at her anymore.

_How humiliating… _

He wets his lips before speaking. “Please” His voice sounds weird, and he wonders if it’s because of his outburst of laugh before. “Just get it over with”

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even move, and now he can feel frustration coming at him. He bites his lower lip to prevent a sob and tries again, more desperate this time.

“Just kill me, _please”_ He takes his arm to his eyes, ashamed to be seen crying like this “Please just do it, I can’t…”

He breaks. Now his tears fall rapidly down his face and he just tries to cover it with his hands and sleeves. He feels so _weird_. He had never cried before, and now, this day he just appears to be incapable of stopping from doing so. Why the hell is he crying, anyway? Because he doesn’t want to die again, but he rather do it quickly than going through that torture again?

“No”

It doesn’t register right away, her voice, and when it finally does it takes him a few more seconds to understand the meaning of them.

“What?”

“I said no” She stands up. He stops crying, in fact, he thinks he stops breathing too. _No_. She won’t kill him right away.

He trembles, but otherwise says nothing, and only gives a long sigh. He should have thought she wouldn’t let him go just like that. She wanted him to suffer, and while he feels bitter about it, he can’t say he blames her.

“Grimmjow”

He stares at her. She is holding her ear, and he can’t believe…

“I need your help”

He gulps. He can’t hear what the other is saying –he can hear him protesting, but can’t make the words out of the screaming –. So Grimmjow is still alive. Who else is? And why exactly is she calling him right now?

Does she want the sexta to help her get rid of _him_?

He closes his eyes. _Breathe_. He’s terrified, but has somehow stopped trembling and now he feels something like resignation. He’s tired, too tired.

He starts dozing out again, and wonders if it’s some kind of mercy. However, he can still feel Nelliel looking at him.

Some time passes, but he’s not sure how long. It may have been a few minutes, or it may have been hours, he really can’t care any less. He feels Grimmjow’s reiatsu and he’s sure he almost cries in fear. He thinks he can hear them talking, but they sound far away.

He opens his eyelids for no more than a few seconds, but he thinks he can see Grimmjow looking at him.

He can’t read the emotion in his face.  
  


* * *

When he wakes up again, he sits up and tries to hold something that is not there.

“… Aporro…”

Someone is calling his name, and he flinches and presses his back to the wall behind him, trying almost desperately to hide in it.

“Szayel Aporro”

Everything is so slow, he cannot understand what they’re saying, he cannot move. He’s confused, it’s that shinigami, that drug, it’s making everything…

“Dammit, Granz, snap out of it!”

Strong arms hold his wrists, and now he notices he was trashing them despite feeling he couldn’t move before. He looks at Grimmjow, his blue eyes staring at him like he’s gone absolutely nuts.

Oh, yeah, he has.

He tries to get his hands back, and Grimmjow complies, but doesn’t step back. He seems to wait until Szayel has calmed down and take in his surroundings. It comes back little by little, but he remembers this place. He’s back in Las Noches, in a room that used to belong to him –though he doubts, wasn’t his palace destroyed by that shinigami and the quincy? –.

It is similar, indeed. The familiarity helps him calm down, and once he thinks he can breathe he notices that Grimmjow is still looking at him.

“Grimmjow” He says, and again his voice sounds weird, like he hasn’t used it in ages. He tries to put his best neutral face, but he feels it’s too late now –Grimmjow has already seen him gasping for air like some kind of idiot –.

“What the fuck, Granz?” He says, though is less aggressive than he would have thought. There is no actual malice in his voice, but Szayel knows better than to think the blue haired feels concern for him. “You woke up and started acting like you had just seen some goddamned…”

“Is this real?”

Both Grimmjow and Szayel are surprised at the interruption. For a moment, Szayel can’t believe those words were just spoken by him, and when he does he feels like hiding.

Grimmjow, however, doesn’t seem to take his interruption as an insult –which surprises him, because Grimmjow has always taken everything too personal –. “It is” He answers awkwardly.

He nods and they both stay in silence. Szayel can tell Grimmjow wants to say something, but he can’t find the words for it. Or perhaps he just has too many questions, and is unsure on which should he ask first.

“So you’re awake”

The uncomfortable silence is broken by Nelliel, who enters and approaches them with a grace Szayel had almost forgotten she has. It is quite intimidating, yet somewhat endearing. For the first time since he woke up, Grimmjow takes his eyes off him to stare back at her.

“He still seems out of it”

He wants to frown at that statement, but he knows it is not completely inaccurate. Still, he can’t help but feel more than bitter.

“It is of no matter; Harribel-sama wants to talk to him right now”

Harribel?

He lets the information sink in. Is Harribel in charge now? Then, what of Aizen?

It is possible, of course, that he has been beaten. It is also possible that he has finally become the god he said he’ll become, and Harribel is now just the one in charge of Hueco Mundo.

He wonders if that means Starrk and Barragan are dead. He is definitely sure Barragan wouldn’t let any other rule Hueco Mundo, so he’s most certainly out of the picture. Starrk, on the other hand, never really acted like a leader, nor anything similar, and might as well be alive, napping blissfully while Harribel does the hard work.

He wonders why he suddenly _wishes_ for that to be true, that Starrk is not death. Deciding he shouldn’t pursue that line of thought, he tries to think of anything else.

Nnoitra.

His image just pops in his head. He looks at Nelliel –who is talking with Grimmjow, but he cannot concentrate in the conversation –. She’s here, and Harribel is ruling the place.

Nnoitra must be death.

It makes him feel weird, for a moment. To know that someone like _him_…

“… don’t think he’s in shape for it…”

“… can’t do anything about it…”

Parts of the conversation reach his ears. They’re talking about him. Is Harribel going to judge him? Is he to be executed in front of whoever is still alive?

“… then I’ll stand with him…”

That brought him back. Did Grimmjow just say he will stand with him? What for?

“Excuse me?”

They look back at him. Evidently, they had noticed he had stopped paying attention and hadn’t mind talking about him, since he wasn’t really present.

“Harribel-sama has requested your presence in the throne room” Nelliel speaks, looking at him with suspicion and _something _else. “Grimmjow and I will take you, he will stay by your side in case you lose it again”

“I won’t” He says before he even can think about it. But he wasn’t taking it back. “I’m fine, now. I have oriented myself”

Grimmjow raises his eyebrow, but Nelliel speaks before he can object. “Very well, follow us”

As he stands, he notices that he’s still in his old, dirty clothes. He makes a face, but knows better than to ask they give him a minute to change himself. What would he wear, anyway? He has no idea how long it has been since he died, but he doubts there’s still any of his clothes or things out there.

As he enters the throne room, he feels even more vulnerable. His clothes are dirty, _he _is dirty, he is weak, he has nothing, and, he hates to admit, _he is nothing._

Harribels fraction greets them, and they eye him with weariness. _So suspicion… _But he knows it is not unfounded.

“Szayel Aporro”

“Lady Harribel” He says, not sure on how to address her now that she’s ruler. He thinks jumping from calling her _Harribel_ to _Harribel-sama_ is too much, and will look like he’s trying to get in her good graces desperately.

However, Apacci doesn’t think the same. “That is _Harribel-sama_ to you, Szayel Aporro”

He is about to correct himself, if only for the sake of keeping peace, when Harribel speaks. “It is okay, Apacci” She returns her attention to him, and while he thinks her gaze is intimidating, it doesn’t seem like she is _trying to _make it that way. “Szayel Aporro, care to explain how did you arrive here?”

“I take it that by ‘here’ you mean Hueco Mundo, given that I was apparently brought to Las Noches by Grimmjow and Nelliel” He says with sarcasm. He has spoken before thinking better of it, and Apacci and Mila Rose seem ready to pounce on him and cut his throat in one go. Harribel though, doesn’t seemed bother by it. For the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees some amusement in both Nelliel and Grimmjow, and wonders briefly if they thought he had lost his malice. “I got out of Hell, with some assistance of Aaroniero”

They all looked truly shocked, now. The three bestias narrow their eyes in obvious disbelief, but the three present espadas seem to believe him, despite their not hidden surprise.

“If this is true” Says Harribel “Where is Aaroniero?”

He doubts. Of course she wants to know. “He…” He clears his throat, wishing the image of the novena could be wiped out of his mind. “He didn’t make it, he was crushed by the gates of Hell before he could make it out”.

“And that wasn’t your plan all along?” Asks Nelliel, and now everyone looks at him with even more suspicion.

It _is_ a fair question, but it hurts nonetheless. “No.” He says, and it’s true. “Though I did… consider the possibility that one of us wouldn’t make it”. He fixes his hollow mask, not wanting to see the expressions on their faces, knowing that sounds just as incriminating. “We both knew the risks, I just happened to be just a little faster” He almost says _and luckier_, but honestly, that would be unappreciative of the long hours he spent thinking of a plan.

They stay in silence, and he looks everywhere but their faces. Whatever is going on through their minds must be no good for him, and it makes him nervous, knowing that they might decide he deserves torture before death.

“That idiot didn’t last much, no surprise he didn’t make it back either”

He is surprised to hear Grimmjow talk, and he looks at him, trying to find any trace of a jest in his face, but founds nothing. The sexta returns his gaze, and there’s something weird in the way he looks at him.

“Szayel Aporro” Harribel speaks again, and he goes rigid. “Should I take you back to Hell?”

He tries to stay still, but a shiver trails down his spine. What is he supposed to say? What does she wants him to say? What….?

“Oh my, I think he’s fainting”

“I’m not” He doesn’t know who he’s responding to (one of the fractions, he thinks, but everything sounds weird). He forces himself to stand straight, despite wanting nothing more than _sit down._ He thinks he sees someone approaching him, and feels a hand in his shoulder moving him so he can see Nelliel, face to face.

“Hey” She says “Look at me. We’re not killing you, Szayel Aporro”

Her voice sounds firm, but gentle. However, it feels like he’s listening through water. _Too slow, too slow… _

“Look at my finger”

Out of nowhere, Grimmjow has replaced Nelliel’s face and is now standing before him. “Did ya’ hear me? Follow my fucking finger”

He does, as Grimmjow moves his finger from one side to another. He wonders where did he got that from, and then remembers one time when both he and Yylfordt had been hurt. They had gone to him, and since Yylfrodt had taken a big blow to the head, he had made that and other tests to make sure his brother hadn’t lost the little intelligence he possessed, while Grimmjow waited a few steps back.

“I’m fine” He says finally. Grimmjow himself seems surprised it worked (though it was actually the memory of his brother what brought him back, he guesses it still was thanks to Grimmjow).

“I thought for sure he was going to puke”

“I wasn’t” He says again, and a second later wants to slap himself because he’s acting like a child. “I apologize; I’m still recovering my strength”

Harribel nods. “I can see that you’re not really a threat, and I believe you can see that too” He grimaces, but otherwise says nothing. “Are you willing to behave yourself, Szayel Aporro?”

He wishes Harribel didn’t make it worse by treating him like a kid, and once again he’s about to make some sarcastic remark, but this time he thinks better of it and decides against it. He’s tired, and there’s no way he’ll survive on his own now.

“I am, my lady” He says with a light bow.

“Very well, welcome back”

He stays there, unsure on what he’s supposed to say. That went… much better than he thought it would, and he thinks he has no made plans for whatever this is.

Harribel must have seen that in his face, ‘cause she turns to the sexta. “Grimmjow, show Szayel Aporro a place where he can stay”.

The espada frowns, but says nothing as he walks towards him. He motions for him to follow and Szayel gives a small bow and a quick _excuse me_ before following him. They walk again through the passages, and if before he didn’t remember the composition of the place, now he does.

Or at least he thinks he does. Some things have changed, and it looks somewhat bigger than he remembers, but he doubts Harribel has a complex like that. Grimmjow steps are large and quick, and he struggles to follow.

Grimmjow himself seems completely different. For starters, he now wears different clothes, and Szayel can’t help but think that they suit him _so much better._ However, it’s his attitude what he finds weird. So far, he has been pretty civil, which concerning Grimmjow was already _something_.

There’s something now, however. Grimmjow won’t look back at him, and it’s almost as he’s trying to get away. It makes him think that perhaps Grimmjow’s good behavior before was due to the presence of the two female arrancars.

Grimmjow stops suddenly in front of a big door. He opens it and takes a step aside, gesturing to Szayel to get inside. He does, and is not surprised that they’re not his old chambers. Still, they seem to be big, and he’s not in the mood to ask for something better right now.

That could wait.

“So, if ya’ need anything, there’s still some…”

“Where are the others?”

Grimmjow stops whatever he was about to say, not that Szayel had any interest in it. He stares at the scientist for some seconds, frowning.

“What ya’ mean with ‘the others’?” He asks, voice deepening. “They’re all gone”

It feels like he’s been stabbed. “All?”

He had known, he realizes. He had known, but had tried to mask the truth to _himself_.

“Yeah, there’s only Harribel, Nelliel, me and you, now” He says easily. “There’s some other numeros around, as I was saying before you interrupted me, so if ya’ want anything go bother them”

Szayel has stopped looking at Grimmjow, and lets out a simple _hmmm_. Grimmjow stares at him for some more seconds, before he disappears using his sonido.

There’s so much to take in, _so much_ he has lost. He hates to be without knowledge, he hates it, he feels helpless, he feels _ignorant._ He goes to clean himself, and after searching for something that fits his size, he goes to sleep.

Except, of course, he doesn’t sleep.

None of them do.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes. I'll check this, someday.


End file.
